


Meant To (Coffee) Bean

by cinnabelly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, also this ends with a very Haloween-ish vibe, based off my au ayeee, because it's almost Halloween and im FESTIVE, they barely even kiss im trash good luck, this got out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:32:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4981021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnabelly/pseuds/cinnabelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based off my own au, or the one where Louis models and Harry caffeinates. See my tumblr @Louserz for more information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meant To (Coffee) Bean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Briana my favorite asshole](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Briana+my+favorite+asshole).



> This was written in two days, and was meant solely for my own personal enjoyment. I apologize profoundly for this. Briana, you suck ass. I apologize for any mistakes, come whoop my ass when you find them. This is 100% fiction, 200% fun, and 300% the reason I can't take myself seriously.

The weight of the bags under Louis’ eyes carry with them every embarrassing thing Louis said or did the night before at the staff function. Typically, it was moderately unheard of for models to mingle with the crew, but Louis took it upon himself to go the extra mile. That, and Zayn insisted that they attend every party as a sort of thank you. His personality was as nice as his bone structure, Louis admitted with little reluctance. It was just fact, like the way the sky is blue and Louis’ going to need twenty bottles of concealer and some serious photoshop to erase the dark smudges under his eyes.   
That, and about ten cups of coffee.   
Zayn’s car is already outside the lot when Louis pulls up at the god awful hour of eight am, hair still mussed with sleep and scruff still yet to be artfully cut. They had said this shoot would require more of a “rugged” edge, something Zayn excelled in all too well and Louis had to work for. He could nail it though, when he tried.   
Liam is sprawled on the couch of Louis’ dressing room when he stumbles through the door, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Liam glances up offhandedly, lips quirking up.   
“Take your sunnies off,” he chides, idly flipping a paper in his folder. “You look like a prick.”   
Louis pushes them up into his hair, shrugging off his jacket. October had come with a sudden chill, sending London into a frantic scurry for coats and hats and gloves. Adidas had spiraled quickly towards a new deadline for their late fall/early winter collection, and now Louis was posing in earmuffs and fuzzy socks. No wonder Liam had emphasized the need for some needed “manly” attributes. It was ridiculous, but Louis could roll with it.   
“You look far too chipper,” Louis deadpanned. “Those margaritas have got to be creeping up on you, eh?”   
Liam hummed, crossing his ankles. “Unlike you, my body has adapted to the effects of irrelevant variables. That’s why I can tune you out so easily.”  
Louis gave him a goodnatured finger, and was about to retort when Caroline poked her head in, eyebrows raised. “Louis, I know you aren’t hungover.”   
Louis gave her his best smile, his camera smile, all teeth and crinkly eyed. Caroline pursed her lips. “Mmhhmm.”   
Louis found himself in the artist’s chair moments later, staring into his own reflection as they pulled at his hair, dabbed foundation under the creases of his eyes, and tamed him to standard. It was forty minutes later they finally released him, decked in only a loose pair of joggers and fitted t-shirt. His shoot wasn’t for another twenty or so minutes, Zayn taking the earliest one, bless his heart. Louis promised to ask Harry for an extra shot of espresso in Zayn’s cup.   
Harry. God, Louis had talked to Harry at the party hadn’t he? You could distinctly remember full lips, wild hair, and the plunging neckline that only Harry could pull off this late into the cold season. Louis had known Harry for barely a week, he’d only started working after their old set “caffeinator” had mandated time off to, well, give birth.   
Louis should send her a fruit basket. She’d been lovely, always chatting about her husband and listening to Louis brag about his sisters.   
Harry, though. Harry was something else.   
Louis sidled up to the booth, eyeing the menu scrawled in Harry’s swooping hand. Zayn always got the same thing, a mocha coconut with towering whipcream because he was genetically unable to hold onto any body fat and therefore could afford it. Louis was more or less the same, though he tried to watch it before any swimwear shoots. There’s only so many times you can go to Chipotle a week in Louis’ line of business before even Liam warns you to slow down.   
So. Louis would leave that up to Harry, as he usually did.   
Harry turned from where he was busy fiddling with one of the machines, his hair stuck up wildly and curling around the visor resting atop. He smiled when he caught Louis’ eye, dimple deepening on his right cheek.   
“Morning, casanova,” Harry greets, much to Louis’ dismay. He groans, dropping down onto his elbows, burying his face in his hands. Which isn’t a good idea, because now he’s smudged his make-up, but he’ll get touch ups beforehand anyway.   
“Again?” Louis asks, peeking from behind his fingers. Harry’s grinning maniacally, biting his bottom lip white. The first time Louis had met Harry he’d been wildly smashed at yet another crew function, though he’d gotten pissed at a VS model after-party and he had merely stopped by the bar on the way home because he’d thought he’d left something there the night before. Harry had attended of course, had thought it would be a great way to meet his new coworkers, he claimed. Louis had, unsuccessfully, tried to charm his pants off in his drunken stupor, tugging at his curls and petting down his lovely cheekbones.   
Apparently, it was becoming a habit.   
“Again,” Harry confirmed, already started on Zayn’s chiller, going through the motions. “Chocolate syrup? Or do you guys have a show coming up?” He inquired this with the teasing arch of a brow, absolutely reveling in Louis’ attention. Louis swears, with lips like that and the affinity for being the center of attention, Harry should be the model. But for some other brand, the kind that sells the floral shirts and leather pants he’s so keen on.   
Actually, scratch that. Louis values his life, thank you very much.   
“No show, yes please,” Louis said, scootching his bum onto one of the stools at the bar.   
Harry finished Zayn’s drink a moment later with a quick flick of his wrist, tumbling chocolate shavings onto the swirl of whipped cream with a flourish. He leaned against the counter, far too cool in his silly Adidas vendor hat and maroon apron. “Any special requests?”  
Louis thought, swinging his legs, searching the far-off ceiling for an answer. “Caramel, please. I’ve got a craving.”   
“So..” Louis started, swirling his finger across the tabletop. The ice machine whirred to life, crunching as Harry hummed. “I was a proper casanova last night, huh? Get any numbers?”  
Harry was turned, his back to Louis, but he scrunched up his nose anyhow. He caught the double-entendre but kept his focus instead on Louis’ drink. “Think you were a little off your game last night,” Harry lied easily, shaking the can of whipped cream. “Think you’re losing your touch.”   
“Oi!” Louis squawked, laughing. “You better watch that tone of yours, or I’ll have my people contact your people.”   
Harry giggled at that, spearing the center of the mound of cream with a straw and turning back to face Louis. “And who would those people be? Liam for you and Niall for me?’  
Louis leaned over once Harry set his drink down, wrapping his lips around the end of the straw and sucking in a long gulp. Harry averted his eyes, kept all thoughts of Louis’ hollowed cheekbones from his mind, along with the way his eyelashes fanned across them prettily. He was a model, after all, Harry should really stop forgetting.   
“Niall can be your people I guess,” Louis answered once he leaned back, regarding Harry with a tilt of his chin. “Though handing out coffee and managing your own restaurant in SoHo isn’t something I’d compare, really. Your job is much more elite.”   
Harry opened his mouth, lips already quirked into a smirk, when Zayn came up behind Louis and hip-checked him to the edge of his seat. “Morning babes.”   
Louis turned his attention to Zayn, grinning. “Morning sweetums, how’d it go?”   
Zayn picked up his sweating cup, giving a quick and cheery “hallo” to Harry before turning back to Louis’ question. “Oh, just wonderful. Love drowning myself in itchy Christmas jumpers and sweating half my bodily fluids under the lights.” Zayn’s scruff was substantially nicer than Louis’, Louis noted with faint irritation. How annoying.   
Louis clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Mmm, lovely, that. Guess it’s my turn.” He fumbled around in his pockets for a moment, pulling out his wallet and dropping a ten in the tip jar. Harry always grumbled about it, but it was really no bother to Louis, so he kept on.   
“Thanks for the fix, Harry, keep those little fruit cups nice and chill for when I’m done.” Louis hopped from his seat, drink in hand, sending a little wave over his shoulder as he started off to the set and Liam. Harry watched him go, using a flannel to wipe the circle of droplets his cup had left on the counter.   
Zayn cleared his throat, startling Harry from his stare. Jesus, he’s got to pull himself together. He pasted a polite smile on his face. “I’m sorry Zayn, did you want something?”  
Zayn shook his head, amused grin on his face. “Oh, nothing. I noticed you helping Louis into that cab last night ‘s all.”   
Harry chuckled, reaching under the bar to grab more napkins and refill the holder. “Yeah, he was pretty hammered. ‘S cute.” It popped out of his mouth before he could stop it, and he fumbled, fingers catching on the edge of the box. Zayn only laughed, glancing back fondly toward where Louis disappeared.   
“He’s a good guy, yeah. I’ll see you Harry, rest of the day is mine. Thanks for this,” he shook his cup, “by the way. Always brilliant.”  
Harry offered up a wave and a murmured goodbye, resting his forehead against the countertop, pressing his smile into the glass. 

***

Louis caught Harry on his way out, effectively cutting off his beeline towards a shining white jeep. Louis spared a second thought for it, feeling his stomach swoop. Of course Harry was the type to own a jeep, probably had artsy little wheel covers for the back too.   
“How’d it go?” Harry asked, tossing his keys from hand to hand. Louis had caught him right in front of his own car and he hopped up onto the hood, much to Harry’s dismay. “You’re going to dent the hood.”   
Louis chuckled, patting the spot next to him. “‘s alright I know the owner, don’t think he’ll mind. And pretty good, considering. They want me to come in tomorrow for a few last minute redos and the like. Then I get a few days off, go to a show, that sort of thing.”   
Harry gingerly sat his bum on the edge of the hood, shaking out his curls with one hand, brows furrowed in concentration. He was listening as if everything Louis said was very important, like he’d be tested on it, and Louis knew it was just his personality but it made him buzz with adrenaline.   
“Sounds easy enough,” Harry said, regarding the early afternoon sky with squinted eyes. “I don’t really know how the whole “show” thing works. Are you in it?”  
Louis shook his head, biting at his thumbnail. It was deceivingly sunny out, and the faint chill seeped through his thin coat. “Nope, but Zayn is, and I’m going for some emotional support. He starts rehearsals tomorrow. It’s nothing big, but it’s big enough. No London Fashion Week or anything.”   
“Huh,” Harry huffed, turning his gaze back to Louis. “Cool.”   
Louis giggled, nudging his shoulder with his own. “It’s really, really not, but thank you for pretending to be interested. I mostly go for the free food. Chocolate covered strawberries are always an easy request.”  
Harry laughed, face contorting with his combined nose scrunch. “No, I mean it, it’s cool! The whole behind the scene thing anyway. Watching it is kind of boring. Sometimes I don’t get that sort of fashion.”  
“What sort of fashion are you talking?” Louis asked, sliding down the hood to be level with Harry. His feet dangled barely off the ground, Harry’s shoes toeing at the gravel. “Because I can get Adidas all the live long day. It may be contract, but this is eighty-percent of my wardrobe. Minimalist fashion I don’t get. A lot of it is basic colored skirts and funky rings.”   
Harry turned his smile into his shoulder, shivering slightly. Louis’ jacket was already halfway down his arms, ready to be tugged off.   
“Did you need this? You’re getting pink-cheeked,” Louis asked, but Harry held up his hands.   
“No, Lou, I’m fine really.”   
Louis slid the jacket back on a bit reluctantly, flicking hair from his eyes. “If you say so.”   
Harry dimpled, pushing himself off the car and wiping the dust from the back of his jeans. “I say so. It’s sweet though. Almost makes me forget about last night.”   
Louis groans, throwing his head back towards the sky. “You aren’t going to tell me what I was running my mouth about, are you?”  
Harry was already halfway to his car, walking backwards, smirking at Louis with a catlike gleam in his eyes. “Nope. I’ll see you in a few days then, Lou. Have a good few days off.”   
Louis waved, grinning back. “I’ll figure it out, Styles. I have a way of getting everything that I want.”   
Harry’s tone was playful, but there was a hit of something serious lilting his words. “I don’t doubt it.”   
Later that night, Louis found himself squashed between Liam and Zayn on his couch, elbow deep in Chinese takeout and buttery noodles. Liam was texting his girlfriend and Zayn was hunting through their extra order of fortune cookies, looking for the “right one”. Louis poked him in the cheek with the end of one sticky chopstick, laughing at Zayn’s disgusting face before stabbing a piece of orange chicken with the end.   
“You are a horrible chop-stick user,” Liam laughed, twisting his fork in his container of Pan noodles. “What would your adoring fans think if they saw you?”  
Louis scraped the piece of chicken off the stick with his teeth, giving Liam a close-lipped smile. Zayn let out a triumphant cry, brushing cookie crumbs off his lap and holding up his fortune.   
“Listen to this! ‘An upcoming endeavour will be a great success’. Guess who’s getting laid after the show.” Zayn gave them a satisfied grin, settling back into the couch with a content sigh, pocketing the little slip of paper.   
Louis swallowed his food, setting his container on the coffee table, propping his feet up beside it. “You’ve got anyone in mind, Z?”  
Zayn shrugged. “There’s that one girl who does my hair, she’s cute. Or that guy who always caters the after parties… Aron? Allen?”   
Liam nodded, slurping up a noodle. “Allen, yeah, he’s fit. I mean,” his face grew strained, “if I was into blokes-”  
Louis patted his chest, shushing him. “Shut up, Li, you’re straightness is still intact.”   
Liam buried his embarrassed flush in his food.   
“Is Harry?”   
Louis whipped his head around, raising an eyebrow at Zayn. “Is Harry what?”   
“Straight?”   
Louis bit his lip, fiddling with collar of his shirt. 22 Jump Street was on low, Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill flickering across Louis’ screen and into the dark game room. Louis hoped the dim lighting was enough to hide the blush he could feel creeping down his neck.   
“I dunno,” he said honestly. “I don’t think so, but I don’t want to assume those things, ya’know?”   
“He said you were cute today.”   
Louis barked out a laugh, turning his body towards Zayn. “He did? Really? What were his exact words?”   
Zayn tilted his head back, scratching at his beard, holding Louis’ rapt attention. “Uh, I don’t know about exact, but I brought up how he helped you into that cab yesterday and he said you were smashed, and it had been rather cute.”  
Louis let out a happy sigh, closing his eyes, resting his head back against the couch. “I can’t remember a damn thing, did he really? And of course I was cute, I’m always cute.”   
Liam rolled his eyes so dramatically Louis could feel it even with his own shut. He flicked Liam in the nipple, grinned when he heard his spluttered yelp.   
“He’s totally into you, Lou,” Zayn said, prompting Louis to open his eyes again. He was staring at his mate with his Serious face, eyes solemn where they were framed by swooping lashes. Louis pinched his arm to bring some humor back into them.   
“I had a feeling.”   
“You should invite him to Zayn’s show,” Liam suggested, shaking his lemonade cup and listening to the ice rattle. He brought the straw to his lips. “I can get you an extra ticket.”   
Louis frowned, chewing on his lip, thinking. Harry had said the whole “behind the scenes thing” sounded cool… But then he had said seeing the show itself would be boring. Maybe Louis could just offer him a backstage pass? Just to see? It didn’t have to be a date… Or anything at all. Just a mate helping out a mate. Yeah.   
“Okay,” Louis agreed, dropping his chin to his chest. “But it’s not a date.”  
Liam chuckled, burying deeper into Louis’ side. “Whatever you say, Lou.”   
And Louis did say. It wasn’t going to be a date. Okay?   
*  
Louis had gotten Harry’s number from Niall. Harry felt his heart flip at the message on his phone, Louis’ tongue emoji and the words ‘got your number from N. Happened to have an extra backstage pass for Zayn’s show on Saturday… What do you think, H? Up for it?’   
Was this a date? Harry rubbed his thumb over the screen, hovering over the keyboard. Yes, of course he was up for it, was that even a question? Did Louis know what this implied? Or was he just that nice of a person, he managed to weasel an extra pass for Harry because he made an offhand comment the day before? He’d known Louis all of a week and he had been nothing but kind. A bit mischievous, yes, and terribly loud. But kind all the same, especially to the crew, always going around to shake everyone’s hand after a shoot and promise drinks, on him.   
So was this one of those times? One of Louis’ crew presents?   
‘Sounds sick, thanks Lou :) x’   
Harry was almost done with a text to Niall when Louis’ response came, riddled with sunglasses emojis and winky faces.   
‘Breakfast at mine tomorrow morning then? So I can give your proper fashion show etiquette and your pass and the like. If you can, of course. If not, I can give it to you at the show.’  
Harry felt his face explode into a fond smile, his insides fizzing like a shaken coke bottle. Of course Louis would offer breakfast, like somehow this was Harry doing him a favor. Harry shot back a quick response to which Louis replied with his address and a time. Harry returned to his convo with Niall, shooting off his text.   
‘You’re dead meat, mate. Love u’

Harry took Louis’ steps two at a time, pockets jingling with loose change and his keys. He was twenty minutes late, there having been an accident blocking the most immediate route to Louis’ surprisingly modest flat in the heart of London. His front door was adorned with a welcome mat that gave it a sort of home-y feel, a single pumpkin ornament hanging around the knob. Louis answered on the first knock.   
“Oh,” he said, eyes bright and locked atop Harry’s head. “Nice headband. Nike?”   
Harry blushed, grinning sheepishly. “My mum bought it for me last Christmas.”   
Louis threw his head back and laughed, moving aside to let Harry squeeze in. “Oh, I can just imagine the look on your face. Proper excited I bet.”   
Harry nodded, taking in his surroundings. “My mate Sofia bought me a scrunchie, my first ever. Haven’t been able to wear it much, but it’s on my to-do list.”   
“Wear it Saturday,” Louis suggested, padding to the open kitchen, feet bare. “Fashion types are weird, they’ll totally get it.”   
Harry giggled, sparing the living room another awed glance before following Louis to the breakfast bar. The inside of the flat was decorated in dark woods and splashes of rich colors that gave it that comfortable feel while still looking sleek and modern. But there were hints of Louis too: a Marvel throw pillow half hidden under one couch, a cookie jar shaped like a… well.   
“Is that a penis?”   
Louis’ head snapped up, then down to his crotch, then up again, brows furrowed. “Um, I just double-checked, and my fly is indeed up.”   
Harry bit back his smile, sliding onto a stool. He pointed over Louis’ shoulder to the cookie jar that bore a striking resemblance to a cock. Louis followed his gesture, then shook his head, groaning.   
“I always mean to put that away before someone new comes over. Or my sisters and mum. Oh well. That’s a right funny story though, and I’ll tell you it over breakfast. But for now, how do you take your eggs?”   
Harry leaned his elbows on the counter, resting his chin on one of his hands. “Scrambled, please.”  
Louis nodded, tone very serious. “Good. That’s the only way I know how to make them.”   
As it turns out, Louis knows very little about making much else but toast and scrambled eggs, so Harry hovers over his shoulder to help him, taking full control of all turkey bacon endeavours when it comes to it.  
“It’s not my fault,” Louis complains when it’s all finally done, mixing green peppers into his eggs while Harry spreads blueberry preserve over his wheat toast. “Normally Mandy, she’s my nutrition and fitness manager, prepares my meals in advance. I thought that’d be cheating though, so her oatmeal’s going to be have to wait until tomorrow.”   
Harry shrugged, washing down a bite of toast with his orange juice. “I like oatmeal. How kind of you to want to give me the proper pre-show treatment. You’re a model citizen, Lou.”   
Louis flicked a crumb at him from where he sat beside him. He took a sip from his steaming green tea before he spoke again, regarding Harry from over the rim of his mug. “So Saturday should be fairly easy, nothing special. Just dress as nice as you can, wear that famous scrunchie I’ve heard so much about if you want. Stick by me kid, and you’ll be fine.”   
Harry grumbled at being called ‘kid’, knocking his foot against Louis’ ankle. “Do you own anything besides Adidas? Or can you get sued?”   
Louis shook his head, shoulders shaking and eyes amused. “No, H, I can’t get sued. And yes, I do actually, so we’ll have to see who can clean up the nicest I guess.”   
Harry pretended that the thought of Louis dressed up nice, probably freshly shaven, didn’t make his toes curl. “Good luck, mate, you’ve never seen my closet.”   
Louis’ eyes twinkled, a half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “And you’ve not seen mine.”   
It was another twenty minutes before they collapsed into respective bean bag chairs in the basement, Louis stretching his arms above his head, arching his back. Harry watched the little strip of skin that flashed under the hem, felt his cheeks grow warm when he caught Louis’ gaze. It wasn’t teasing or taunting, just knowing, with the hint of something else that kindled a small fire in Harry’s gut. He squashed it down, blew it out before it could grow. They were on their way to becoming friends, almost mates, right? Harry didn’t need to ruin it with this little crush. He didn’t even know if Louis was into him, what if he was dating someone already? Harry felt like he would have heard it through the grapevine if he was, but still…   
“Harry?”   
Harry snapped from his stupor, offering Louis a small smile. “Sorry, spaced out, what was that?”   
Louis settled deeper into his chair, feeling around on the floor for the remote. “Just wondered if you’d figured out what you’re going to be for Halloween. Considering you’re the type who still dresses up, though I’d reckon you are.”   
“You’ve reckoned correctly. And I’m not sure yet. You?”   
Louis hummed thoughtfully, eyes locked on the telly. “Haven’t decided yet. Maybe something with tights, have to grant the world with a great view of my bum if given the chance.”  
Harry laughed. “What an angel you are, truly.”   
Louis didn’t turn to meet Harry’s gaze, just grinned at the screen as he finally decided on a programme. “A saint I am. There’s a St. Louis isn’t there?”   
Harry dipped his head, snuggling back and stretching out his long legs. “Yup, somewhere in America. Couldn’t tell you where though.”   
“Hmmm, then what do I even keep you around for?”   
Harry felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulled it out to answer. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”   
It was a text from Niall. ‘How’s the date?’ it read, with a eggplant emoji. Harry shoved it back into his pocket quickly, making a mental note to destroy Niall later that day when he clocked in for work. Niall may be his boss, and the reason he even has a part-time job at one of the nicest restaurants in downtown London, but that doesn’ mean Harry can’t get a well-deserved scrap in before the dinner rush.   
“What time does Niall need you?” Louis asks, sounding sleepy. Harry glanced over to find him squinting tiredly at the TV screen, rolling his head from side-to-side in an attempt to crack his neck.   
“Around noon, so I should be heading out in the next forty or so.”   
“Mmmm. Lovely hours, that.”   
“Reason I get to wake my perky bum at arse o’clock every other morning to come see your ugly mug.”   
“Awww, you’re so sweet, like a peach. Is your bum perky? I’ve never thought to look.”   
Harry grabbed at the opportunity, tilting his smile towards the high ceiling. “Not what you said the other night.”  
There was a moment of dead silence where Harry feared he’d gone too far, but then came Louis’ voice, soft and lilting. “You’re a true demon, Harry Styles. Absolutely the worst.”  
Harry couldn’t take offense if he tried.   
They spent the last few minutes of Harry’s visit in murmured conversation, making fun of infomercials with offhand comments and discussing how Louis would have the limo pick Harry up around six on Saturday.   
“Don’t worry,” Louis told him when he walked him to the front door, leaning against the frame while Harry struggled to get his shoes onto his feet. “You can sneak in the back so you don’t have to deal with the paps. I just have to make a quick appearance and then I’ll be right there. I’ll have Liam keep you company until I’m done making the rounds.”   
Harry pushed himself back to his feet, shaking his head. “I can’t thank you enough, Lou, this is so cool. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”   
Louis waved him off, holding the door open for him. “No need. We’re mates now, and this is what mates do. Now get going, I will not have Niall poisoning my food next I have a business luncheon because I kept his best waiter from his job.”  
Harry rolled his eyes but bumped Louis’ offered fist against his own as he left, an extra spring in his step as he went to hunt for a cab.  
So that’s how it began.   
Louis found himself sending Harry random texts throughout the next couple of days, just because he could and just because he felt like it. It started with him sending Harry a picture while he was getting his hair done up for last minute retakes earlier that day, of his moose slippers and the caption Dare me to wear em on set and see how long it takes for them to notice? Harry’s response was a single devil emoji.   
Louis’ next text was simply ‘twenty second and then Liam nearly choked on his protein shake’.   
Over the next three days there were scattered conversation about a random football match they had both caught, or Harry asking if it would be inappropriate to go pantsless to the event on Saturday and if he’d disgrace Zayn’s good name. Louis’ ninety percent sure Harry sent that just to make Louis have to close his eyes for a breather and not think about Harry pantsless. Louis couldn’t find it in himself to respond properly so Harry got a simple series of ‘!!!!’ in reply.   
By the time Saturday comes around, Louis’ telling his driver the instructions to Harry’s flat, it feels like being in constant contact with Harry has been something Louis has been doing his whole life. It’s so ridiculous and Louis’ a bit ashamed he’s slipped so quickly into this little crush, but he supposes he can’t really help himself, what with Harry’s pretty wide eyes and bouncy curls. He’s only human, honestly.   
Louis’ a bundle of nerves and irritation by the time Harry’s bounding down his steps to the car, yanking the door open and then sputtering a quick apology to the disgruntled driver who had been hurrying to make it to the door first. Harry sank into the seat beside Louis, breathlessly muttering a quick hello while he raked his fingers through his curls.   
“Was running a bit late, didn’t have time for the scrunchie,” Harry apologizes, gaze sweeping down Louis. Louis barely noticed, taking in Harry’s sheer top layered under a brown jacket, a pair of sunnies sitting gracefully in the scoop of his neck, jeans artfully ripped at the knee and shoes almost comically heeled. He looks.. good. Really good. For a moment, Louis forgets the reason for his jangled nerves. Then remembers.   
“There was a slight mishap with one of Liam’s other clients,” Louis begins apologetically, reaching over to give Harry’s new a squeeze. “He’s not coming until later. So you can either suck it up and venture alone, or suck it up and do a quick pap walk with me.”   
Harry’s eyes go kind of wide, lips parting on a surprised breath. “Like… They’d let me?”   
Louis can’t help the soft smile that tugs onto his lips, even as he clings to those last dregs of displeasure. “Of course, you are my guest. Besides, they’ll eat you up, what with your cherub face and insanely tight jeans. Honestly, are you breathing right now?”  
Harry giggles, pinching his bottom lip between two fingers. A ring glitters on two of his fingers, winking at Louis under the hazy overhead lighting. “You look better than I do. Took me possibly two hours to even come remotely close to something decent.”   
Louis waggles his eyebrows. “Thought you were running late.”   
“I was! Spent thirty minutes trying to get a wayward eyebrow hair into place. How do you do it?”   
Louis felt the last of his anxiety slide away, instead an easy fondness spreading over his limbs. “Years of practice, my friend. Do you want anything to drink? There will be drinks there but,” he gestured towards the beer and cans of Coke products and bottles of water.   
“I’m fine right now,” Harry said. “‘Fraid I might wee myself if I drink anything right now.”   
Louis pursed his lips. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we? What with you being pantsless and all.”   
Harry giggled. “Jeans are so tight I got myself tucked up into my own arsehole.”   
“Ew,” Louis moaned softly, burying his face in his hands. “You’re disgusting, Styles.”   
It was like that for the forty minute drive. Harry struck up a conversation with the driver, someone Louis called upon regularly as he always knew what stations Louis’ preferred and didn’t drive over curbs. Mike kept glancing in the mirror, quirking a graying eyebrow Louis’ direction when their gaze met. Louis stuck out his tongue at him, something Harry didn’t seem to notice, as he was too busy messing with the bluetooth and trying to play Louis some YouTube video over the speakers.   
When they finally arrived Harry’s leg was jiggling like mad, his fingers combing obsessively through his own hair, eyes darting around the tinted windows. Louis patted his thigh reassuringly, offering him a smile.   
“It’s alright, Harry, I’ll cut it short. One walk, then right inside, and I’ll show you how the other half lives.”   
Harry managed a slightly queasy looking smile, breathing heavily through his nose. “I’m allergic.”   
Louis frowned. “Allergic? To what? Pictures?”   
Harry shook his head, curls falling into his eyes, which he brushed away. “No to, um, peanuts. It’s really mild and really only when the peanuts are alone, probably not concerning-”   
“Harry,” Louis breathed, laughing. “This is a fashion show, not an American baseball game. There will be no peanuts, and if there are, I will fight in your honor for their immediate removal. Pinky swear.”   
Harry wrapped his pinky around Louis’, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Alright.”   
When Mike opened the door for them, Louis went first, taking with him the brunt of it all. The flashes and pops of cameras were merely a buzzing distraction to Louis now after so many catwalks and photoshoots. He’d had the paps called on him once when he was out to dinner with his mum, to which he had come to Liam the next day, seething. Liam had explained it had been the Adidas mananger, wanting promo for their spring line, but it had done nothing to cool Louis’ temper. Harry didn’t have the luxury of being used to the blinding assault, and he squinted into the fray when he finally climbed out to stand beside Louis.   
Louis turned his back to the cameras, shielding Harry as best he could. “It’s a bit mad, yeah?” he asked, chuckling slightly under his breath. “But you look really good Harry, don’t feel self-conscious or clam up. They might start yelling, turn this way and that, but ignore them. Just follow me, we’re going straight in.”   
After Harry managed a nod, Louis allowed him a second to gather himself before spinning on his heel and starting for the front doors. Indeed there were a few shouts, asking them to stop, asking for Louis to turn, but he just waved briefly and kept walking. At first, Harry stayed glued to Louis’ heels, eyes downcast and shielded from the flashes. Slowly, he grew more confident, even sent a cheeky smile over his shoulder for one female pap who yelled that she liked his shoes.   
They were nearing the doors, which stood open by two security guards on either side, when one pap got too close for Louis’ liking. He reached a hand out and tugged at Harry’s sleeve, causing him to stumble, which only served to have the clicking, insistent buzz grow. Louis turned, shoving the man’s hand off, wrapping a protective arm around Harry’s waist.   
“Is this your boyfriend?” the pap yelled, lips curled in thinly veiled disgust, brushing off the security who came and tried to get him to step back.   
Louis pulled Harry closer, eyes narrowing, teeth gnawing harshly on the inside of his cheek. Rage welled up inside him before he could stop it, and before he knew it he was biting out, “Is that a fucking problem, dickhead?”   
Louis didn’t wait for an answer, instead hurried Harry into the building, throwing one middle finger behind his back as the doors shut behind them. Louis pulled Harry off to the side for a moment, fuming, fumbling in his pockets for their passes.   
“Fucking Christ, some idiots are so fucking rude,” he ground out, finally pulling the slips from his pocket and handing one to Harry. “I’m sorry for,” he gestured. “That. And sorry for calling you my, uh, boyfriend.”   
Harry shook his head, hands shaking slightly as he took the paper from Louis. “It’s fine, he was an arsehole. I’m glad you did what you did. Dick deserved it.”   
“Yeah, well. I’ve never been good at biting my tongue.”   
Harry offered Louis a half-smile. “I think you were lovely.”   
Louis couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Right, H. Me swearing and probably earning myself a few pages of bad press is very lovely.”   
“Hey,” Harry said, stepping closer, placing a warm palm on either of Louis’ shoulders. “It was lovely because you were standing up for me, and for yourself. Thank you.” He leaned forward and for a heartstopping moment, Louis thought he was going to kiss him. But Harry’s lips came to brush Louis’ cheek faintly, sending tingles down to the tips of his fingers and all the way to his toes.   
Harry pulled back and gave Louis a goofy grin, both dimples shining proudly. “My knight in shining Topman.”   
The night got better from there, though it really depends on perspective. Louis doesn’t receive anymore cheek kisses and Harry doesn’t offer any. They do, however, manage to swindle away chocolate covered strawberries wrapped in napkins and hide them in the inside pockets of Harry’s surprisingly roomy jacket. They hang around Zayn as he gets ready, Harry even managing to sweet talk one of the crew into letting him borrow her self balancing segway. After landing on his arse four times in a row, probably squashing a fair amount of fruit and chocolate, Louis demands a turn and manages to not fall on his face on the second attempt.   
“Say cheese, Lou!” he hears from behind him, over Zayn’s cackling, so he twists his body to get the machine to turn, holding up two thumbs up and grinning so wide his eyes squint. Harry’s cackling at his phone, typing in a caption for snapchat when an accidental lean on Louis’ part sends him spinning right onto his bum.   
All in all, the behind the scenes is just as fun as Harry imagined it would be, complete with taking as many selfies with as many models as he can. He’d expected them all to be a bit stuffy, for the crew to be more serious, but for the most part no one batted an eye. As long as they weren’t running late, or about to go out onto the catwalk, Harry was in the clear.   
They made it to their seats halfway through the show, Louis slightly tipsy on the champagne they’d been offered and giggling into the palm of his hand as Harry clicks through his two-hundred second snapchat story.   
“No minimalist black and white story for you tonight, huh?” Louis teases, unable to stop himself from biting playfully on Harry’s shoulder. Harry leans into his touch, their legs pressed together, arms joined from shoulder to elbow.   
“That’s for instagram tomorrow morning,” Harry explains, pocketing his phone. “I mean, if I’m up before two.”   
Louis knows very well he will be, as his shift for Niall starts then. Louis himself will probably still be face first, arse up on his bed, drooling into his pillow. He goes back to work Monday morning and starts prep for a show with Topman the following weekend.   
The show goes smoothly, and Harry almost wolf whistles when Zayn comes out onto the runway before realizing how wildly inappropriate that would be. Harry falls into a fit of helpless giggles at the idea, and Louis’ there right along with him, though he hasn’t the faintest idea as to what is funny.   
The rest of the night goes sort of hazy for Louis, coming in and out like the static on a bad radio station. He remembers leaving the event with Harry tucked into his side, flashes like tiny explosions behind his eyelids which means they’d left through the front entrance with Zayn. He barely remembers drinks and meeting Liam at the after party, as well as Harry getting on quickly with a model named Cara and her girlfriend Annie.   
Louis remembers dropping Harry back off at home, thinking for a moment Harry might kiss him again when he pauses on his way out the door, but receives only the barest and most genuine of smiles. He doesn’t, however, remember climbing his own stairs or managing to get the key in the lock, or falling into bed with his clothes still on.   
The mystery is solved the next afternoon when Louis wakes up and finds a note on his bedside table beside a bottle of water and some aspirin. Felt like chopped liver in the limo last night. You’re welcome. -Li. P.S. Harry was totally going in for it mate, sorry for the cockblock.   
Bloody Liam.   
Louis manages to nurse his relatively tame hangover with cup of tea and a bowl of cereal, settling into his bed for a bit of time to himself. He checks his phone, clicking on the notification for Harry’s instagram tag. It’s a black and white (unsurprising) picture of the two of them from last night, but it’s taken from afar (surprising). Louis tries to think back to anyone Harry could have known in the audience who would have taken the photo and sent him it, but comes up empty handed. Which means it must have been a pap picture. Which means Harry went searching for something about the two of them online.   
Louis pulls up Google on his laptop, searching for Louis Tomlinson + Burberry fashion show. He clicks on the most recent article, swallowing at the headline ‘Adidas Model Louis Tomlinson Shows Up to Support Long-Time Speculated Boyfriend Zayn Malik’s Fashion Show with Another Man’. The article goes on to talk about how “loved up” Harry and Louis looked, and of course ended with a gallery of photos of them not only during the pap walk but during the show as well. It’s disgustingly cute really, how bright Louis is beaming at Harry. He’s got his cheek resting on Harry’s shoulder in one, his face scrunched up at whatever he’s staring at on Harry’s phone. They caught the moment he’d bitten Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s face contorted into a mask of fondness from where he’s watching the crown of Louis’ head. They look rather silly, and Louis couldn’t be happier. He wonders how Harry felt seeing it. Surely he can see how much Louis likes him, how quickly and stupidly Louis has fallen into this crush.   
There’s a link to the video of Louis mouthing off to the pap posted by stupidfamouspeople that Louis does not click on. He shuts his laptop, likes Harry’s photo, and shoots him a text.   
Rumor has it that we’re the new Posh and Becks. Or maybe Brangelina?   
I saw. Mum and sis we’re texting me all morning, demanding to know when I’d started dating a model and why I hadn’t told them. Said it was because you want to fly us all to the Bahamas for the reveal. :)   
Louis shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. Please, like I’d settle for that trash heap. Aruba is where it’s at.   
My bags are packed. Palm tree patterned dildo and multipurpose sunscreen/lube.   
Oh, good, I’m running low.   
It went on for some time, and Monday morning when Louis stumbled into the building, yanking a beanie off his head, Harry was tugging him into a deserted hallway before he could even give a sleepy hello to Liam.   
“Will you go on a date with me?” Harry asks while Louis is still stumbling a bit, steadying himself by gripping Harry’s arm tightly. Louis blinks slowly, looking up at Harry incomprehensibly until his sleep-muddled mind finally catches up.   
“Forward, Styles,” Louis giggles, scrubbing a palm down his freshly shaven face. “Lucky I like my dates with a pair. I’ll have to go with yes. I’ll have my people contact your people.”   
“You’re so stupid,” Harry breathes, wrapping a hand around the collar of Louis’ jacket and tugging him upward. Louis giggles against Harry’s lips, pushing himself up onto his toes and wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s neck.   
Louis’ back hits the wall with a soft thud and he lets out a huff of air through his nose, Harry’s lips warm and soft against his own. Louis pressed another, close-lipped kiss to Harry, before pulling back slightly. He rests his forehead against Harry’s for a moment, smirking.   
“Can’t believe you kissed me before our first date, really, what kind of man do you take me for?”   
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, words a bit muffled as Louis stole another chaste kiss. “I couldn’t wait any longer. Every ridiculous emoji you sent me, or snapchat of your annoyingly adorable face made me want to kiss you more.”  
“Likewise,” Louis said, voice raw and gravely, even more so than his usual early morning rasp. “Now make me something with a lot of caffeine before I pass out.”   
Louis goes on his way to get ready, and when he finally manages to tear himself away, makes a beeline for Harry’s booth. Harry already has a fruit cup sat at Louis’ usual spot, a plastic spoon standing erect from where it speared a cube of honeydew. Louis pops it in his mouth, reaching over to tug on the back of Harry’s apron.   
“G’morning.”   
Harry turns, catching Louis’ hand in his own, dropping a kiss to the open palm of his hand. “G’morning. Haven’t seen you in forever.”  
Louis laughs at that, shaking his head. “Been almost a whole forty-five minutes, that. You got something special for me?”  
“If you mean another kiss,” Harry begins, wiping at a spot on the counter with a wet paper towel, “you are in for a disappointment. I do, however, have a very seasonal and very delicious drink for you, if I do say so myself.”  
He slid the cup across the bar, Louis’ name scrawled across the side with a heart dotting the ‘i’. Louis tried not to think about how silly they both were, for fear he might get a cavity. He leaned over and caught the straw between his lips, sucking a huge gulp, eyes going wide.   
“This is fucking fantastic! What is it? Tastes very pumpkin-y.”   
“Maple Pumpkin Chiller of my own creation,” Harry said, sounding satisfied with Louis’ praise. “White teenage girls all over the world would be lining up for this in the hundreds.”   
Louis whacks him lightly on the arm, pulling away from another sip. “Don’t stereotype Harry, it’s rude. Everyone would line up for this sugary wonderland.”   
Harry rolls his eyes, stealing a cubed pineapple from Louis’ cup. “Whatever you say, Lou.”   
They sat in comfortable silence, the bustling noise of the set behind them and the slurp of Louis’ straw the only thing breaking it. Finally Harry looked up from where he’d been arranging his pyramid of fruit cups and oranges to give Louis a smile. “So about our date.”   
Louis crumbled the plastic cup of fruit in his hand, tossing it over the counter and into the wastebin. “Right, lay it on me.”  
“I was going to save that for after the date, actually, but if you insist-”  
“I will seriously hurt you if you don’t get on with it,” Louis huffed with faux exasperation.   
“Alright, alright,” Harry surrendered, hands up. “There’s this Halloween party Niall is throwing at his place this Friday, so I thought maybe we could go there. Which-” his face dropped suddenly, stumbling over his words. “Is actually really lame and you’re probably used to really posh restaurants, maybe we should do that instead-”   
Louis caught Harry’s jumper sleeve, effectively cutting off the frantic gesture he’d been midway through. “Harry. I would love to go to Niall’s Halloween party with you. I much rather do that then stare at each other over a table all night with a bottle of wine and ridiculously priced food between us.”   
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, shaking it out. “Are you sure? Because we can do something else.”  
“I want to!” Louis insisted, scrambling for his mobile phone. “Besides, I’ve already gotten the invite from Niall and told him I’d make it if I could. Which I definitely can now.” He held up the message for Harry’s verification. “See? So it’s perfect. Don’t stress, love.”   
Harry visibly relaxed after that, stealing a sip of Louis’ drink. “Okay. But we need costumes.”   
Louis snapped his fingers excitedly. “We can look online after my shoot. Come back to mine?”   
“I can’t come over until after my shift, so how about tomorrow, around dinner time?”   
“Sure,” Louis agreed, pocketing his phone. “Though you saw the entirety of my cooking abilities the other morning.”   
“I’ll pick something up on my way over,” Harry promised.   
Somehow, it felt like date.   
Louis was on the phone with Zayn when Harry made it over, a takeout bag from Panera over one shoulder and two tiny pumpkins tucked under the other arm. Harry grinned when Louis glanced pointedly at them, bumping the door closed with his hip.   
“Hey, Z, Harry’s here. I gotta go.”   
There was a crackle on the other end of the line, Zayn shifting the phone probably, then, “Alright, behave you two.”   
“Promise,” Louis said, before hanging up. He took the pumpkins from under Harry’s arm, carrying them over to the counter. “What’s this?”   
“We gotta carve pumpkins, man,” Harry said, setting the food on the counter. “Thought we could costume hunt and eat, then carve these up. Do you know how to make pumpkin seeds?” Louis shook his head and Harry clapped his hands excitedly. “Good! I can teach you.”   
They spent maybe thirty minutes mulling over costumes, talking around their soup and wraps before settling on two DIY costumes that Louis found rather creative. “Are you sure you are alright being Sally?”   
“Sure,” Harry responded, shrugging his shoulders. “She’s got good hair, as do I. Can’t complain.”  
Louis couldn’t very well argue with that logic, now could he? Louis went hunting for an old Halloween CD he used to listen to with his younger sisters while Harry set to work lighting a few candles (for Halloween ambiance, he said) and laying out wads of paper towels. Finally, Louis found the CD stashed away in one of the cabinets and rubbed at the back of it with his shirt sleeve. He popped the top of the CD player, an old gift he’d barely used, Monster Mash trickling through the tinny speakers when track one began.   
Harry bopped his head, placing a knife beside the pumpkin Louis had claimed. “A classic, that.”   
“Agreed,” Louis said, spinning his pumpkin until the unblemished side faced him. “We should have a contest.”   
Harry, already sawing away a circle around his pumpkin’s stem, laughed. “How?”  
“Well,” Louis began, cutting away a lid for his own pumpkin. “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a fair bit of followers on Instagram.”   
“Which you barely post for,” Harry scolded, giving Louis a pointed look. Louis waved him off.   
“Okay, Louis Tomlinson Fan Club President, I’ll post more. Anyway, I can post our pumpkins and have people vote for which one they like more. Winner gets eternal bragging rights.”   
Harry arched a brow. “That’s a lame prize.”   
Louis giggled, setting aside the lid to his pumpkin and starting to scoop out pumpkin guts with a spoon. “Alright. Winner gets eternal bragging rights and gets to post whatever they want on the other person’s Instagram and/or Snapchat.”   
Harry lit up, eyes glinting mischievously. “Hell yeah, my Instagram is private.”   
“Fuck!” Louis laughed, shaking his head, flicking a string of pumpkin innards off his wrist. “I didn’t think about that.”   
“Better get creative, Lou,” Harry teased, abandoning his spoon and going straight in with his bare hand.   
“Better not get your hand stuck, because I am not taking you to the hospital to get your arm chopped off.”   
Harry wrinkled his nose, dropping guts onto the growing pile beside his pumpkin. “I don’t think they’d have to chop my arm off.”   
“I’d make a request.”   
“Ah.”   
Harry got very competitive, as it turns out, even went as far as to turning his pumpkin completely around and first mapping it out with a Sharpie. Every time Louis tried to peek over, Harry shouted and pulled the pumpkin to his chest. “Stop cheating!”   
Louis, as it turned out, completely lacked any skill in pumpkin carving. He went very generic, with triangle shaped eyes and a toothy grin. He added a unibrow for added effect, but couldn’t get the curve of a mustache just right and ended up with a wonky smile. Louis finished before Harry, rummaging through his cabinets for a bottle of wine.   
“I’m awful,” Louis laughed when he found a bottle, pouring them both a glass. “This was a terrible idea.”   
Harry kept his gaze fixated on his pumpkin, the corner of his mouth twitching ever-so slightly. “That’s because I am the pumpkin master.”   
Louis rolled his eyes, the Ghostbusters theme song blaring in the background as he padded over to turn the volume down. “It’s probably just a Starbucks logo.”   
Harry finally glanced up. “And that wouldn’t impress you?”   
Louis shrugged, bringing the rim of his glass to his lips. “Touche.”   
A few moments later, Harry sat back and set his knife down. “Done.”   
“Well,” Louis prompted, turning from where he’d been flicking through a magazine. “Aren’t you going to show me?”   
Harry turned his pumpkin and Louis sloshed wine down his wrist. “That’s fucking horrendous!” It was a face, a human face, with a nose resembling an eggplant and a ring around the features indicating that was where the head ended. It was… very Harry.   
“I can’t believe you made me wait this long,” Louis sighed, shaking his head. Harry beamed at him, wiping his hands on a rag, so Louis must be doing a terrible job of not sounding so endeared.   
“Post ‘em!” Harry demanded, finally reaching for his own wine glass. “I need to know what the people think.”   
Twenty minutes later, after tallying up one hundred comments, Louis had twenty seven votes and Harry had seventy three. “Unbelievable,” Louis laughed, handing over his phone. “You better not embarrass me too much.”   
Harry held his phone in one hand, typing something frantically, before turning to Louis’ just as it beeped. “Why would I ever want to embarrass you?” Harry asked, all mock innocence.   
Yeah, right.   
When Louis got his phone back five minutes later, after watching Harry hover over it and giggle to himself, he launched the Instagram app immediately.   
It was a Snapchat Louis had sent Harry days before, of his breakfast neatly arranged to resemble a penis, his moose slippers visible at the bottom of the frame and Spider-Man pajama pants peeking from under the plate. The caption Harry had written was “I’m twenty-five years old and still play with my food. (Among other things)”.   
“Fucking Christ, Harry,” Louis laughed, setting his screen to black and tossing his phone onto the couch. “Could have been worse, I guess.”   
Harry giggled, falling into the recliner. He casted a glance over at the mound of pumpkin guts and seeds, then over at the clock. It was past midnight, the sharp smell of pumpkin making their noses run.   
“Guess I should help you clean up and then head out,” Harry sighed, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Sorry I didn’t get the chance to show you how to make pumpkin seeds.”   
Louis shrugged, dropping into the chair. He landed half-on Harry, making him huff out a startled ‘oof’. “It’s alright. We can clean up in a few, I need a moment.”   
Harry set his glass down on the hardwood floor, tilting his head to the left, neck cracking. Louis pressed his face into Harry’s shoulder, biting back a smile. “Gross, H.”   
“‘S not gross,” Harry mumbled, nudging his foot against Louis’, head lolling onto the crown of the other boy’s head. He felt his eyes close, cheek tickling from Louis’ feathery hair.   
“Is to.”   
Harry woke up the next morning to Louis littering his cheek in kisses, managing to capture one with his lips before Louis could pull away. It was one, but it was enough.   
*  
Harry insisted on picking Louis up this time, in his shiny white jeep. When Harry pulled up, face painted white with skeletal teeth around his lips, he laughed. “You’re supposed to be Jack Skellington, not Kiss!” he exclaimed, reaching over the seat to open the door for Louis. Louis grinned, dropping into the passenger side, running his fingers through his quiff.   
“Zayn helped me with the makeup, said I’d look cooler with a star around my eye. Didn’t realize until after what he’d meant.”  
Harry bit his lip, pulling out onto the street, reaching a hand over to squeeze Louis’ knee. “So how was your day, Date?”   
“Supremely boring, Date,” Louis sighed, dropping his head back onto the seat. “I’m ready for drinking games and Niall’s insanely unfunny jokes.”   
“Ditto,” Harry agreed.   
Niall’s house was lit up like a Christmas tree when they arrived, though maybe that’s the wrong analogy, as that’s an entirely different holiday. There were jack-o-lanterns lining up the walkway, black cat lawn ornaments dotting the grass, and giant ghosts hanging from the windows. There must have been a fog machine hidden in the bushes, for when Louis got out to help Harry from the car, he lost sight of his shoes.   
Niall stood near the door, greeting guests as they arrived. He was dressed like a stereotypical professional wrestler, gigantic belt and colorful tights and all. He whooped when he saw them approaching, fist bumping Louis when they made it up the front steps.   
“Good to see you bastards,” Niall greeted, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Zayn and Liam got here not ten minutes ago. I left them by the jello shots. Kendall made them, even managed to get these squishy eyeball candies in the middle. Sick as fuck!”  
Louis laughed, reaching back for Harry’s hand, tugging him along. “Thanks, Niall, we’ll go find ‘em.”  
As it turned out, Zayn and Liam had abandoned the jello shots and had started a game of beer pong, of which they were winning. They were playing against the model, Cara, Harry had met at the fashion show and another girl with dark hair. They were decked out in matching Mario and Luigi costumes, though Cara was missing her mustache.   
“Harry!” Cara greeted, throwing herself into his arms for a hug. “This is Kendall, and we’re getting our sorry arses whooped by your mates.”   
“Hey Louis and Harry,” Liam greeted, Zayn waving, mouth busy gulping down a cup of beer.   
“Where are the jello shots?” Louis shouted over the music, fingers still wrapped around Harry’s. “I’m looking for a good time and I can’t do that with the sight of Niall in tights still haunting me.”   
“Kitchen,” Kendall supplied, shooting them a smile, eyeing their joined hands. “Jack and Sally right? From Nightmare Before Christmas? Or are both of you Kiss members and I’m making a tit of myself?”   
Harry shook his head, this time tugging Louis along, in the direction Kendall had indicated. “Nope, Zayn thought it’d be funny to sabotage our couples costume. Bloody typical, innit?”   
Zayn shrugged, bouncing a ping pong ball across the table. “You both deserve it, don’t think I don’t follow you fuckers on Snapchat. You’re stories are disgustingly cute.”   
Louis blew him a kiss over his shoulder, before reaching the kitchen and stumbling into a proper one with Harry. They were the only ones in there, Harry’s fingers spanning Louis’ lower back, palm warm through the fabric of his t-shirt.   
“It’s the first date, I can kiss you again,” Harry said, nosing along his jawline.   
“You were kissing me anyway,” Louis pointed out, patting him lightly on the bum, but going in for another kiss just the same. “Ridiculous you are.”  
Harry’s eyes shone when he pulled back, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “So I was thinking, since Halloween isn’t until tomorrow night, we should take your sisters trick-or-treating. I haven’t met them yet, besides that brief talk on the phone Wednesday night, and I would love to see them. That is, if it’s alright with you.”   
Louis tugged him in for another kiss, tasting pumpkin and sugar on his lips.


End file.
